Mirror, Mirror on the Wall
by Literate
Summary: His eyes widened, taking in the entire image— light coffee strands, pale white skin, a smooth round face, the faint- faint hint of a smile on open lips- His reflection. He's scared of his own reflection. Hinted Hitachiincest.


... I'm back? :D? -gets shot and pounded by grapefruits and bananas-

I... had a ton of distractions and tons of things to do, but because of the crises that have been coming up (jeez, Lit, so many crises), I decided to finish up and write _mirrorphobia_, a challenge fic for SHINE's phobia challenge. (Yes, I wrote one of these!) I have so many things that I have half-finished, so expect a splurg of fanfiction during these last days before school starts. Or not.

So, _mirrorphobia_ being something I dumped three months ago and picked up to write the rest has lots of confusing aspects in it. As per usual. Just don't ask me to explain. It'd ruin the _mysterique_ of the story. XP Oh, and since it ends in such an open-ended way, I'm going to have a second-parter called _almost-stranger_. Maybe. It's only if I feel like writing it. XP

Made for SHINE, so do check it out. We had a pretty bad fluke, mess-up with the member profiles... so... er, if you joined and didn't make a new account in the past two days, it's possible that all your information is lost. So er. Yes. Do check it out. XP

**Warning:** Nothing at all. Might be some hints of brotherly love, since the hinted pairing is HikaXKao, but not much. **Disclaimer:** Do not own, but I do love.

**NOTE TO ALL:** Lit is a very reclusive little girl and so when writing this and posting this up, she did not appear to notice until three people mentioned it to her. MY STORY HAS ABSOLUTELY NO CONNECTIONS WITH THE MOVIE THAT COMES OUT (TODAY) AUG 15, MIRRORS. Not like I want it to. It's... apparently horror. I developed this story from the sole idea of "eistrophobia" and nothing else. So for those who think I got the idea from the movie, no, I didn't. I didn't know it existed until three people told me if I saw the movie. My initial reaction: "... what movie?"

* * *

Shadows lined the walls, creeping slowly against the elegant stained windows. Leaves rustled, fading into the darkness of the room. The large doors clicked opened quietly. A footstep sounded against the tiled floors.

A figure tilted its head wordlessly, wandering noiselessly across the room. A small lamp light flickered on, a deep golden glow.

"Hikaru? Okay in there?"

The boy nodded quietly, large hazel eyes dancing across the lifeless walls.

"It's not scary, is it?"

He shook his head, blinking as he came across identical hazel eyes.

His eyes widened, taking in the entire image—light coffee strands, pale white skin, a smooth round face, the faint- _faint_ hint of a smile on open lips-

_His reflection._

His breath stopped.

_shatter_

_Mirror, Mirror on the Wall_

-

'_He's… what?'_

'_It's probably just a phase; it' should__n't__ be __anything__ serious.'_

'_Ah, I see… what should I do then?'_

'_Just watch out for Hikaru now. Make sure he's eating and sleeping right. Sometimes young children are too frightened to eat, or, more commonly, sleep. All you can do is make sure he eats and sleeps.'_

'…_what about mirrors then?'_

'_The easiest solution. Take them away.'_

_mommy, the little boy is staring at me…_

-

"Mommy's going to take all the scary things away, okay?" she winked at the five-year-old. He simply stared at her.

"Ah, hai."

"We're going to move to Paris for a while, Hikaru," she said to her son, as she picked him easily off the ground, "You can make new friends, play around, have fun!"

Hikaru wasn't as enthusiastic. She simply carried him quickly out of his messy playroom, Hikaru's tiny hand fisting.

"… but…"

"Yes, Hikaru dear?" she clicked, her heels pacing along the carpeted floor.

He didn't answer quickly; he closed his hazel eyes once, twice, before whispering.

"What about _him_?"

She paused abruptly.

"I thought you were scared of him," she replied quickly, her confidence quickly contorting to anxiety.

"Yeah… but he can't be all alone…"

"Well, it's fine! Whoever makes a Hitachiin sad _should_ be left alone!" she said quickly, kicking open the front door for added effects. Hikaru simply flinched at the sound.

"Besides," she added, trudging down the stairs, "Mommy has business in Paris that she has to deal with and can't leave Hikaru alone by himself here!"

Hikaru closed his observant hazel eyes, "Okay, Mommy."

_but he shouldn't be left alone_

-

'_His problem is getting worse by the day…'_

'_I see…'_

'_He keeps coming to me in the middle of the night…'_

'_It should be a normal symptom; all five year olds do that.'_

'_No, doctor, that's not it. You see, he's… seeing things he's not supposed to see. Hearing things that he's not supposed to hear."_

"_How do you know?"_

"_He told me… that there's a person in the mirror… he doesn't understand that it's himself.'_

'_That should be normal.'_

'_No… that's the problem. He can see a face that's not his and he thinks it's talking to him.'_

_mommy, mommy, is a wefeshun suppose to talk? _

_no, dear, reflections are not supposed to talk_

-

-

-

"How's your room?"

"Dark."

"Aw, come on, Hikaru! It's one of the only places I could find in the whole of _London_ that had-"

"-the elegance and authority that Hitachiins do, _yes_, Mother," Hikaru rolled his eyes, before flopping onto the nearest object: a large king-sized bed. He looked at the cell phone in his hand, sighing, "Is this really going to help? Moving away from Japan?"

"Mostly," came a distracted voice.

"Again?"

"Better than staying."

His bored eyes strayed from the phone, mumbling, almost dejectedly, "But we only stayed there for one month..."

There was silence on the other end.

He looked up at the blank ceiling, waiting.

"Gomene, Hikaru, what did you say? I couldn't catch that."

He rolled his eyes again, "It wasn't… It wasn't anything important."

"Ah," came her distracted voice, "Anyway, there's some lamps in the main room. You can take one to use." Hikaru nodded absently, as he heard his mother huff into the phone, "I don't understand why they won't set it up here-"

"I'm fine," he said quickly, sitting upright on his plush bed, "I'll do it later."

"Are you sure?" she asked delicately.

"Of course, Mother," he drawled, his hand dancing across the threads distractedly, "I'm not _scared_ of the _dark_."

"Oh, right."

Hikaru frowned slightly, his hazel running along the length of his new room.

"Ah! I have to go, Hikaru dear, business, you know."

"Bye then."

"Have fun, Hikaru!"

He heard a faint click, before he set down the cell phone.

"I'm not scared of anything…" he whispered to himself, his eyes roaming the room yet again, just in case, "Mother's just being-"

His breath stopped, his eyes widening.

"What…?"

A ghostly pale image reflected across the silvery outline, a distant smile carved upon his lips, "_Hi, Hikaru."_

"What the hell do you want?"

The reflection closed his eyes.

His fingers twitched, anxiously, fisting.

"_You don't remember?"_

Hikaru shifted away from it, his eyes averted, "Go away."

The reflection smiled again; this time, menacing, "_You don't remember? When I called for help and you weren't there—"_

"I thought I told you to go away!" he choked out, hurling the nearest thing he could get. The mirror shattered, shards of crystals falling to the ground. The image distorted, smile fading. Brittle pieces lined the floor in front of it, the cell phone beeping from among the shattered pieces.

He stared at it with wide eyes, his breath erratic. He subconsciously reached for another thing, a delicate picture frame, his sweaty fingers slipping. He watched it, his hazel eyes wide.

The voice didn't come back.

The reflection didn't come back.

Then he dropped the frame and cried.

_get him out of there! please, I don't want him to die!_

-

'_Doctor, he's in hysterics! Are you sure I'm not supposed to worry about this?!'_

'… _wasn't he fine before this?'_

'_That's only because he didn't see any mirrors at _all!_ But when we moved this time, there _were_ mirrors—I thought they'd get rid of it!'_

'_That is oddly strange… He's having nightmares again?'_

'_Yes! Every time I come back from my late night meetings, I always find him up! I told the maids to put him to bed, but apparently, he doesn't listen!'_

'… _how… how old is Hikaru again?'_

'_Thirteen.'_

'_When was the last time this happened?'_

'_When he was seven, and he was curious enough to sneak into my room.'_

'_Your room?'_

'_It's the only room that I had allowed mirrors in. It's usually locked when I'm not there… now, I don't have mirrors anywhere.'_

'_That's a six year difference… I'd suspect him to be over this by now…'_

'_I guess not…'_

_I'm a bad person, mommy… I'm a really bad person…_

-

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Hitachiin, but your son is too violent to keep learning at this school."

Yuzuha's lip trembled, her hazel eyes darting to her son. Hikaru wasn't looking at her.

"What did he do?" she asked, brushing back a piece of her hair. Her bracelets clanged softly, "I mean, if it's something inexcusable then I understand."

"Well… he has have several counts against him already," the middle-aged man said delicately, "Although you say that his therapist says there's nothing wrong… he's broken five windows and the mirrors in the boy's restroom. All three of them. And we can't get Hikaru to explain it."

Hikaru simply stared out the window.

His mother sighed, "If it's monetary losses, then I'd be happy to pay for him…"

"That's fine."

Yuzuha perked up slightly, "Hikaru won't be expelled?"

"No… I'm sorry…" the principal rubbed his temple tiredly, "But since he's joined our student body two weeks ago… I can't honor your request."

"Oh…" Yuzuha shifted slightly; her eyes darted to Hikaru again, "I see… I could easily have him tutored at home with our moving every couple of months, but I just wanted him to get some friends…"

"It's a typical argument," he nodded, "It's a pity too, because he has a bright mind. For something like violence charges, I'd let him off once, but… he has repeated offences. And sometimes, offenses that injure other students."

"I see…" she shuffled again. Hikaru shifted only slightly.

"I say it's best that you, like you say, have him tutored at home," the man advised, "But… I'm curious to as why your son acts this way…"

Her hazel eyes softened, her hands fumbling in un-Hitachiin way, "Well… it's not his fault, but—Hikaru!"

Without warning, Hikaru grabbed the stapler; both adults started in their seats. He aimed it the window, shattering the reflective glass into little pieces, almost grabbing the phone from the table, when he stopped, completing freezing—

"Hikaru! What's wrong—"

"He won't leave me alone!" he turned towards her slowly, tears (_regret_) streaking down his face. Yuzuha wrapped her arms around him quickly, comforting in the only way she knew how. His chokes turned into quiet sobs, tiny whispers, as he buried his head in the fabric of her shirt.

The principal simply blinked, letting out a disbelieving breath, "What…"

Yuzuha embraced her son, her eyes closing, words quiet, "He's… he's scared of his own reflection."

_mommy, he's not going to stop…_

-

_ten years later, _

"You're so violent sometimes," she tsked.

The man grunted, simply leaning against his chair. The young woman pouted, her amber eyes trailing to the broken remains of her lovely mirror, the tiny fragments sprinkles within the carpet flooring.

"Is it instinctual or what?" she asked, crossing her arms. He mouthed something quietly. She blinked, moving to lean against his shoulders, a soft hand on his forehead, "What is it, dear?"

He brushed her off, his eyes crossing, "You know how I don't like mirrors."

"Yes, yes," she backed away slightly, her hands held up defensively, "I know that…"

"Then why get one?!" he yelled out, before slumping into his desk office. She reached out, maybe to touch him, to comfort him, but he simply turned away again.

"Hikaru…"

"Sorry, Itsu-chan…" he sighed, rubbing his temple with a finger, "But… maybe you just need… someone else. I'm fine alone—"

"Hikaru, dear…" she placed a hand on his soft brown hair, "You don't have to—"

"I've been thinking…" he whipped around slowly, watching her face fall into confusion, "-that... you don't need me."

Her eyes widened slightly, "Hikaru! I _do_--"

He cut her off, "That you're dating me out of pity. For sympathy. Because no one else wants—"

"Just shut up, Hikaru!" she shouted, her eyes flashing in a mix of anger, determination. Hikaru quickly averted his eyes, "So that was my—my original motive. But why can't you believe that after all these months that I can't just fall in love—"

"With someone else," he completed, his eyes blank.

She bit her lip, her brows furrowed, "You're—so impossible, Hikaru. Can't you ever believe that what I'm saying is sincere? I _like_ you."

"But you don't _love_ me."

Itsu stopped altogether, her amber eyes wide.

"It's over, Itsu-san," he said finally, standing from his chair, walking briskly towards the office door. His hand fell onto the doorknob, twisting it open, "You can stop wasting your time on me. It's never going to work out."

The door slammed behind him.

A tear peeked out of her eyes.

"Hikaru… no one hates you…" her eyes closed, her voice shaking, "Why do you always make it seem that way?"

A droplet fell against the glass, glittering against the fading sunlight.

"And… what's with you… and mirrors?"

_what's that word again? haunted? that's right, my reflection likes haunting me_

-

"… Hitachiin-san, if you're not going to talk, then it's a waste of your time and mine."

Hikaru simply stared at the ceiling, his eyes unblinking.

"At least," the man tapped his pencil against his notepad, "Tell me one of the incidents you talked about in the description."

"Mirrors," he mumbled concisely, "Don't like them."

The doctor blinked, "Oh. And what about mirrors you don't like?"

"Mm…" Hikaru furrowed his brows, his eyes closed in thought, "… reflections."

"I see."

"It follows me around. A lot."

"It?"

"The reflection."

The man adjusted his glasses, coughing awkwardly, "Right."

There was silence, the lone scribbling echoing against the walls.

"Do you like your reflection?" Hikaru suddenly asked, his hazel eyes meeting the psychologist's.

"Um," he scratched his cheek slightly, taken aback, "Not really—"

"Me neither," he cut off, abruptly turning away.

The man simply stared at him, his lips set in a firm line.

"Well, Hitachiin-san, your reflection reflects yourself; it's the only way you can see yourself," he explained, slightly irritated at his patient's rude interruption.

"I don't see myself."

"Then what do you see?"

Hikaru stilled, his finger drawing circles into the leather couch.

"Someone else."

_someone who looks just like me… but isn't_

-

-

-

He didn't expect it to be there, at that certain time, in that certain moment. Looking just like him, directly across the hallway, doing the exact thing he was doing.

As far as he could remember, he had rough, opaque wallpaper lining the previously smooth, transparent walls, and all the mirrors set in the make-up studio—the only place he consciously wouldn't go.

But he was sure that this wasn't the dressing room, nor any of the public restrooms. It was directly in the hallway, standing up, flesh and bones, papers in his hands, an indescribable expression on his face.

But it wasn't sadistic, expecting, sly, or smooth.

Wasn't threatening.

It… it was surprise.

His hazel eyes connected with hazel eyes. He felt a feeling welling up in his chest, the normal, frightened, haunted feeling spreading through his body. He couldn't move.

Frozen in place.

It blinked at him, all traces of mystery and ulterior motive gone, an almost innocent demeanor about him.

It wasn't a reflection.

But it wasn't him.

He wanted to run, _needed_ to run.

"Um, are you Hitachiin Hikaru--?"

He couldn't stop it. Without warning, his hand reached out and tore it from his reflection's hands, before throwing it at him, his reflection, pushing him down, away.

And he ran.

"Kaoru-san! Are you alright?!" he could hear the hysteric screams, shouts echoing from behind him, concern, surprise, as tears flowed freely down his face.

Why couldn't it stop haunting him? He had done nothing wrong. Done nothing to it.

_Why couldn't it just leave him alone?!_

He ducked into the nearest room and locked it, falling to the floor, defeated.

Twenty years after he first left Japan for good and his past was still hurting.

_mommy, is it really okay?_

_yes, Hikaru, it's okay_

-

He was three when it started. He talked to it a lot, but he wasn't very scared first. He was five when his reflection started to hate him. Started to yell, taunt. He was five when he started to hate it.

He never told anyone this. No one knew.

They just knew that when he was five years old, he developed a severe case of eisoptrophobia. _Mirrorphobia_.

It lasted for five hours.

His eyes were lidded, his breath heavy, as he sat against the door. He could hear faint muffles of voices from time to time, but he shrugged it off. He brought his knees closer to him, as he stared blankly across the room, trying to remember, but trying to _forget_.

The room was dead silent, the air conditioner rumbling quietly in the background.

His hazel eyes scanned the closed curtains, a faint orange glow signaling the death of the noon sun. His eyes closed slightly, knowingly, as he stood up, his feet bringing him closer to the window. He paused as his hand collided with the office desk, fingers feeling along the smooth, _new_ desk.

He turned to look at it, blank eyes hovering across the unusually clean table. His gaze flittered briefly across the nametag as the door clicked. Once, twice.

He blinked, as the hallway lights spilled across the carpeted floor, a shadowed figure outlined against the floor.

That's right.

This room was the office of the new studio director.

"Etto, Hikaru-san, was it?"

He nodded wordlessly, as the figure hovered close to the door. After an anxious second, he closed the door, entrenching the two of them in darkness.

"About earlier…"

He perked up slightly, his eyes widening, "Earlier?"

Wait… this…

"Yeah, earlier, when you—"

"Sorry about that," he stated quickly, his heart quickening a few steps. He started for the door, averting his eyes from the other man, "Excuse me—"

"Chotto matte! I need to talk to you!" he flung himself in front of the door, successfully blocking the way out. Hikaru stared at him hard, the darkness too deep to define anything but his outline.

"Yes…?" he shifted onto his other foot, his heart still beating anxiously, "Whatever you have to say, just say it now. I—I need to get back to my work."

"Do you remember me?" the voice asked, slightly out of breath. He racked his brain quickly.

"No," he grabbed the knob from behind him, avoiding the other's gaze, "Please excuse me."

"From before? Anything?" Desperate, pleading—on both sides. He attempted to pull at the door—locked.

He furrowed his brow, "No, I'm sure I haven't met you before. Just get out of the way."

"Twenty years ago," a hand landed on top of his, wrenching his fingers from the door, "You suddenly disappeared. Don't you remember anything?"

"Fine!" he pulled away from him quickly, attempting to pin a glare on the reflection, "That was when I left you and you started to haunt me! Isn't that enough for you? That I failed—"

_Failed…? Failed in what?_

He pushed him aside, "Can't you ever stop bothering me?! I'm sorry I left you alone! Does that give you any reason to fucking follow me around the world?!"

He could feel a breath exhaling against him. No, this was wrong; reflections don't _breathe_.

"What the hell are you talking about, Hikaru?" he spat out, coating the words with the familiarity that Hikaru couldn't place, "I never _left_ this city because Father always told me that Mother and you were going to come back!"

His eyes widened—what in the name was this guy talking about? He shook his head, trying to clear his mind.

"I'm sorry, I have absolutely no clue what you're going on about," his breath shuddered as he felt a hand against his head.

"Hikaru… you really don't remember me?" a soft questioning voice. He couldn't place where he heard it before. The other placed his head against his shoulder, arms encircling him quietly. Soft strands tickled his cheek. Comforting. Warm.

He's not his reflection.

He bit back a reply, racking his brain again.

"No. I don't," he pushed him away roughly, his eyes crossing, "Who the hell are you?"

He heard a sigh, as the lights flickered open, blinding him momentarily. He blinked, once, twice, as the familiar image etched itself out in front of him. Soft coffee strands, pale white skin, determined hazel eyes, a betrayed, hurt expression—

His _reflection_.

But not.

He took a wary step backwards, gulping slightly in apprehension.

"I'm your freaking twin brother, Hikaru," his reflection stated bluntly, shaking anger covering his poorly hidden hurt, "The one you don't remember from twenty years ago. The one called Hitachiin Kaoru."

_is it really okay, mommy? to go away without telling him?_

-

"_Mommy, where are we going?" he asked quietly, flinching slightly at the slamming doors. He placed his mittens over his ears, as Yuzuha picked him up._

"_Somewhere," she said ominously, placing him into his booster seat and buckling him in. He stared up at her, his hazel eyes confused. She slammed the door closed before taking her place in the driver's seat, closing the door with another slam. She adjusted the rearview mirror, "Do you want anything to eat?"_

"_No," he answered. He looked to his side. It was strangely empty. He looked back at his mother, who turned the key. The car roared to life, "Mommy, is it okay?"_

"_I'm fine, Hikaru," she answered, adjusting the stick to drive. Hikaru looked out of the tinted windows, at the place he called home._

_He didn't know if his mommy was fine… she was yelling yesterday too. And the week before. _He_ tried to say that mommy wasn't okay, but he didn't believe it. Mommy had to be okay. _He_ was wrong._

"_Are you okay, Hikaru? I heard you and Kaoru got into a fight yesterday."_

_Hikaru shuffled uncomfortably. It wasn't a fight. He just threw things at him. That's all._

"_I'm okay."_

_She looked at him through the mirror before pressing on the accelerator. The car shot out of the driveway, shakily falling into the main road, lights illuminating through the thick snow._

"_But what about Daddy?" he piped up quickly. The car almost came to a stop, "Is he okay too?"_

_She sighed slightly, slowly falling into a constant speed, "Let's just say Daddy has to do something else. We just need to go away for a bit."_

_An unsettling feeling crept into his stomach. His grip on his seatbelt tightened._

"_Is it really okay, mommy?" he whispered, "To go away without telling him?"_

_She shrugged slightly, "He can call me if he wants. It's none of my concern."_

_Hikaru frowned slightly, staring at his feet, "Con… cern…"_

"_We don't have to worry about it," she defined crisply, "If they want to worry, they can worry."_

"… _but…" he lid his eyes slightly, "… what about me?"_

"_Mommy can take care of you," she huffed confidently, turning her car into the highway, "Mommy can take care of you."_

_He fell silent._

_But… he shouldn't be left alone._

_A tear rolled down from his empty, blank eyes._

_he shouldn't be left alone_

_-_

"Eisoptrophobia?" the mirror in front of him asked. Hikaru didn't bother to breathe a word. His "twin" simply reclined thoughtfully against his chair, "Father didn't tell me anything about it."

"I suspect Father didn't know either," he mumbled, his eyes averted. He organized his papers again.

Kaoru looked at him bitterly, stopping his hand, "Look at me when you're talking. And stop doing that."

He placed his papers down, before studying his brother with bored eyes. Brother…

Kaoru wasn't his family. The only family he knew and remembered was his mother.

Kaoru… was someone different.

"Look, Kaoru-san, I am _very_ sorry I destroyed your latest designs," he continued on emptily, his eyes crossed, "So you don't have to follow me back to my office and annoy me to hell. Whatever relations we may have had when we were… toddlers."

The other glared at him, sarcasm lacing every one of his words, "I'm sorry, oh so high boss of the Hitachiin company, but haven't it occurred to you that I applied for your corporation just to find you? For your _scary_ case of mirror-dislike, you really are rude."

Hikaru suddenly went silent, avoiding his mirror's eyes.

Kaoru huffed, his lips curved into a frown, "I don't understand nor care what the hell happened to you when you _left_ because _obviously_ that is _your _problem."

Hikaru watched Kaoru rise from his seat.

"If you don't understand that I'm being _sincere_ for once, then I'm _done_ with this conversation," his voice lapsed for a second, "You obviously don't want to repair this broken arrangement we have—"

He turned away, just as Hikaru grabbed onto his sleeve.

"… you… went out of your way to find me?"

A light pink spread onto his face, as he yanked his arm away, rubbing it awkwardly, "Well… yeah… when your brother suddenly disappears after the only fight you ever had, don't you think _you_ would try to find him?"

He frowned slightly, settling back into his seat, "… the fight was about Mother and Father, right?"

Kaoru didn't answer.

"… so… why was Mother angry?"

His reflection blinked, before setting incredulous eyes on him, "You… don't know?"

Hikaru averted his eyes, "No. She kept saying she was okay. I didn't know anything."

Kaoru plopped back into the seat, calming the fluttery feelings in his stomach. His brother stared long and hard at him, before staring at the paper-covered desk, replying, "She… and Father had a fight. About us. Taking care of us, stuff like that. Mother wanted to take both of us to Los Angeles because they didn't want anyone else taking care of us, money expenditures, but Father's job involved him moving to Hokkaido for the while. Father suggested taking one of us with him, but Mother refused. She wanted us together. It wasn't good for us to be apart. Father tried to convince her otherwise… but…"

He looked up at him, just as Hikaru rubbed at his eye. He paused, as Hikaru blinked, "What? Go on."

"The Hitachiin… can hold very long grudges…" he mumbled quietly, "When Father finally realized that Mother should just take both of us _anyway_ since she could have time watch over us, Mother had already disappeared… taking you with her."

"Isn't that contrary?"

Kaoru blinked, "What?"

Hikaru thinned his lips, "That after saying we should be together, she takes only one of us?"

"Oh…" Kaoru moved his gaze to the floor, "Right."

The room fell into an awkward silence.

"Sorry, Kaoru…"

"Hmm?" he blinked, confused, "For what?"

"Sorry…" he whispered, "… for hating you."

"… oh…"

_my brother is my reflection__-__ the one who always appears in my nightmares and scares me is not my brother_

_it's me_

-

It was complete and total silence.

Clatter of porcelain and silverware echoed through the air, as the four of them sat in complete and total silence.

Hikaru nibbled on his piece of grilled salmon, timidly peering over the dinner table at his twin brother, who was rolling his bits of salmon around the plate. He didn't know what Kaoru was thinking, inviting his Mother and Father out to eat in a private room. He didn't get it.

Then again, their "fight" came from misunderstandings that three-year-olds could have and never get over.

The Hitachiin could hold very long grudges.

"… so was it your idea, Kazuyo?" their mother finally spoke up, spinning the salmon with her fork aimlessly.

"It wasn't," their father answered concisely, taking a neat bite from the grilled fish. He placed his fork down, "It was Kaoru's."

Her eyes darted across the table to her other son. Her lips trembled slightly, "I see."

"Excuse me, I have to go," Hikaru said quickly, dropping his napkin to the table, "I'll be back."

The door closed slowly behind him. Their parents redirected their gaze to their younger son. Kaoru slammed his fork into the napkin, before standing up.

"I remembered I had to do something, sorry," he said quickly, pulling the door open, "I'll leave for a bit."

The door floated close again.

Yuzuha finally fixed her fiery hazel eyes on her husband.

"Liked it?" her eyes narrowed, her voice venomous, "I could go on for much, _much_ longer."

Kazuyo placed his fork back onto the table, his chocolate eyes scanning his wife's fierce expression, "Don't you think you've damaged enough? It's not about petty arguments or who's right and who's wrong anymore. The twins were hurt and I doubt you'd _want_ to go on even further."

She scoffed, throwing her fork onto the table, "But your idea was wrong. Who said separating was good in the first place?"

"But you did it," he confirmed, "I _was_ going to tell you your idea was right, but you ran off before I could say anything."

"So?" she challenged.

"You're being childish, Yuzuha."

"It's the way of the world, Kazuyo."

"You can't think about yourself anymore," he said, almost business-like, "Our kids, although they're already adults, have damaged relationships. Didn't you _know_ that Hikaru and Kaoru had a fight too?"

She frowned, but didn't answer.

"To leave after that… to just leave a wound festering… I don't know why you would do that, even if it's for revenge."

"Hikaru said he was fine," she defended.

"But he's—was a kid. Kids don't know."

She quieted entirely, her eyes drifting off to the side. Kazuyo studied her with intent chocolate eyes.

"Eisoptrophobia, Kaoru said."

Her eyes widened slightly, "What?"

"Kaoru said, because they were separated, Hikaru developed a case of eisoptrophobia, a phobia of mirrors. You should know. Hikaru freaked out when Kaoru met him last week."

"But that's completely different!" she spluttered out, her voice defensive, "It was just when he was five—"

"Kaoru too. An obsessive compulsive disorder," he commented airily, crossing his arms, "OCD. He always cleaned, way too much, when he was anxious. He routed all the rats in the mansion in a month, two years after you left. Every corner of it is dust free now."

Her voice quieted into a whisper, "But that was your fault…"

"But you did it."

Her hand fisted, her voice breaking up, "But… when I came back… I—I couldn't find you… nor Kaoru..."

He leaned forward thoughtfully, placing his chin on his hand, "I think I know why… We… never moved to Hokkaido."

She turned quickly towards him, her moist eyes meeting Kazuyo's soft, knowing ones.

"We stayed here… just in case you changed your mind and came back."

_but mommy, are we going to go back?_

… _no…_

-

He stared at himself in the mirror. There was something different about it. Yes, that's it, he placed a hand on the cold glass, _I'm… confused._

"Think you can escape, Hikaru?" Another identical figure appeared in the mirror and he jolted, whipping around to see his brother's bored expression. Kaoru simply leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed, "I'm surprised you haven't freaked out yet."

"What?" he retorted, his eyes narrowed.

"You know," Kaoru tapped on the glass, "You're afraid of mirrors."

"Eh?!" he snapped back to the mirror, his eyes widening as he looked at it, expecting _him_ to come out again. He turned back to see Kaoru's wry expression, as he almost-throttles him, "I—How—"

_How did my reflection _go away?

Kaoru studied him, his piercing hazel eyes peering at his frantic twin.

"I took the liberty of scooping through your files," he replied calmly, "Although suspicious of his patient's sudden cooperation, the psychologist gave me his full report—"

"You—what?!" Embarrassment burned onto his face.

Kaoru quirked his smile gleefully.

"And it seems that the only reason you were scared of mirrors was because you hated your reflection. And the only reason you hated your reflection was because of you were torn away from your _real _reflection early in life at a time where you've just developed that your brother was a conniving bastard because he was _wrong_—"

Hikaru was flushed with embarrassment, turning abruptly away from him, "I'm—I'm filing in a complaint to that idiot—"

"Oya, relax," his hand grabbed his wrist calmly, forcibly denying him escape. Hikaru seethed quietly, as Kaoru patted him on the head, "I didn't think you'd be so upset—"

"You're prying in someone else's private matters! Of _course_ I'm upset!" he retorted.

"But I _didn't_," he sang innocently.

"You're lying," he attempted to push his brother out of the way. Instead, Kaoru pinned him harshly against the wall.

"I didn't," he replied calmly, his voice absent of his natural taunting tone, "I simply took what _my _psychologist reported and applied it to you."

"You didn't," he fumed, turning his glare away, "You're not like me—you didn't need one—"

"Stop denying it, Hikaru; I _did_," he admitted, shuffling slightly, "I stopped… denying it—I… have OCD."

Hikaru blinked in surprise, "You…"

"It stops when you admit it," he replied calmly, "And when you figure it out. But…"

"But what?" he wiggled slightly, uncomfortable of their current position.

"I'm still right," Kaoru smiled absently.

"About what?" Hikaru huffed out. Kaoru simply looked at him, a smug smirk on his face.

"About everything."

Hikaru simply rolled his eyes, "Whatever."

_but I've never hated you_

-

"We're back," Kaoru peeked through the door first, smiling. The tense atmosphere was gone. Mother was poking at food again, or, more like, stabbing Father's uneaten salmon into cubes. Father was attempting to wrestle the fork from her. Wordlessly, Hikaru followed him in, taking his place at the table. Splashes of red still tinted his face.

"Ara," Kazuyo surrendered, his eyes moving to study the two's expression, "Hikaru."

He almost tensed up, nodding lightly at his father. He picked up his fork, nibbling on his fish again. What happened to the silence before?

"Are you still treating Kaoru badly?"

His eyes widened, almost choking on his piece of salmon, "I— I didn't—"

"Dear, Kazuyo, that was wrong of you," his mother tsked, "Why must you include 'still'?"

"Because," he replied, shaking his head in mock annoyance, "Kaoru was telling me how Hikaru was treating him like a stranger."

"I see, I see," Yuzuha puffed out her cheeks, turning towards him as well, scolding lightheartedly, "It's not a very good thing to do to your brother, Hikaru."

Hikaru's eyes darted to his brother, who simply feigned innocence.

"You…" he growled under his breath.

Kaoru smiled amiably. "Yes?"

'_Tattletale.'_

_even though you're scared of your own reflection, you shouldn't—_

_I'm not_

_not?_

_I'm… not scared anymore_

_-_

_because my reflection is no longer alone_


End file.
